THE JOLLOF RICE PRINCIPLE

I was thinking this morning.... About 10 years ago, I was in charge of inducting all new staff and visitors at my organisation's head office. The implication was that, for years, I knew everyone around. Those years, when I walked into the staff canteen, everyone greeted me like I was Davido entering into the reception hall in Miami.

Years later, I moved higher and completely left the induction to a younger member of my team. Despite that, I can still boast of recognising over 90% of people at the location. Then came the COVID-19 lockdown years that birthed the new age of virtual working. I had not been in the staff canteen for years and decided to do so one afternoon. As I stepped into the expansive hall with at least a hundred people already having lunch, I was expecting to make my usual rockstar entrance. That day, I got the shock of my life. Every face was strange. Not one person recognised who I was. I collected my food and sat down like a prodigal son.

As I ate, I wondered what had happened. Am I in the wrong location? How is it possible that no one recognised me? Who are all these people? When did they join this organisation? There were so many questions on my mind. But then, it occurred to me that it wasn't a sudden change. The organisation had been employing new persons while others were leaving one person at a time.

It is the same principle in life and is called the Jollof rice principle, derived from the pidgin English proverb that says, "Jollof rice wey dey bottom pot today go dey on top cooler tomorrow." Everyday, someone is dying, while another is born. It's only a matter of time before every face would be new. The new or young colleague at the bottom of the food chain today could be the king of the jungle tomorrow. Life changes, one person at a time.

If, therefore, life is changing, one person at a time, why are we not humble? The organisation wherein you are acting like a demigod today, come back after 10 years, you will be a stranger. A celebrity today would be unknown tomorrow. The 'Pharoah that knew Joseph' will not be on the throne forever. You know why? Life regenerates. Life changes, one person at a time. Jollof rice wey dey bottom pot today go dey on top cooler tomorrow. The one wey dey on top cooler today na im go first end up for toilet. Psalms 75:7 comes to mind. Join me to pray to stay humble.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

......Just the thoughts of a certain Wey Mey

KOKORO NO KAZE

 

I was thinking this morning.... Days ago, I walked into the staff canteen with a colleague. As we stood on the short queue waiting to be served, my colleague said, "Have you observed how almost everyone in this canteen is wearing a jacket? Is it that the AC has been adjusted to be extremely cold, or the recent heavy rains made it seem so?" I looked around and truly saw so many people wearing fleece and other jackets that made some look like Eskimos in the North Pole.

As I watched these colleagues walk back to their seats, tray in hand with all sorts of orishirishi, to provide food for their bodies, I got thinking. We give so much attention to providing food and avoiding cold for our bodies but do very little to prevent a cold of the soul. In Japan, a cold of the soul is described as "kokoro no kaze." While Kokoro no kaze generally refers to mild depression, I prefer the literal meaning - cold of the soul.

Too many people around the world are suffering from colds of the soul (Kokoro no kaze). Imagine the other day, I walked into a supermarket to pick a few things. Just a few items that couldn't fill a disposal plastic bag and the cashier said N32k. I looked at the queue behind me and looked at the young lady. With a confused look, I asked the young lady if she added the bill of others on the queue. She laughed and confimed it was only my bill. 'Jesu!' was the only word that came out of my mouth.

As I walked out of the supermarket, I wondered how people survive in Nigeria. Yet, we see less than 1% of the population loot our common wealth and recklessly flaunt it, while millions die from hunger. They don't even pretend that they care, and I wonder why. Now I know that they are suffering from Kokoro no kaze - cold of the soul. When parents sell their babies to survive and children use parents for money rituals, the root cause is Kokoro no kaze - cold of the soul.

It is foolish to pay attention to the food for the body and less to the food for the soul. Yes. It's okay to quickly react to external cold by covering up, but we must be urgent to stop the cold of the soul (Kokoro no kaze). It is better to have a warm soul and a cold body than a warm body and a cold soul. Do all within your power to avoid Kokoro no kaze (cold of the soul) because it is the kokoro (worm/insect) eating your life away. Matthew 24:12 says, "And because lawlessness will abound, the love of many will grow cold."

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

......Just the thoughts of a certain Wey Mey

HOW WE AVOIDED A PLANE CRASH

 

I was thinking this morning.... it was a bright, sunny day as our aircraft commenced its descent into the Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport, Abuja. The pilot had announced that we would be landing soon and the seatbelt signs turned on. I adjusted myself and my seatbelt in preparation for landing.

As I opened the window blind to my left, I looked out the window to scan and enjoy the view of the suburbs of the Federal Capital City. As I did, I observed a black feature, just above the rocky mountains close to the Abuja airport. I initially thought it was a bird because of its size. But as we descended a lot more, this object got bigger and clearer. Yes, it was an aircraft also flying towards the Abuja airport.

I kept staring at this aircraft as we continued to descend. I got a bit curious observing that this aircraft was flying at the same speed and a fixed angle from our aircraft. I was certain that both aircrafts could not have been cleared to land at the same time on the single runway.

I kept observing, keen on seeing which of the aircrafts will land first. One kilometre from touchdown, this aircraft was still approaching, but this time getting closer to us. What does this pilot think he is doing? I hope he is sane? I wondered about the pilot of the black aircraft. Well, even if he is mad, I was sure the pilot of our aircraft was sane. Our pilot is not blind and must have seen this rogue aircraft.

500m, 200m, 100m to touchdown, and this rogue aircraft was getting precariously close to us. Why is everyone calm? Am I the only one seeing this aircraft? 50m, 30m, 10m. Oh my God! It's going to crash into our aircraft. Just when I was about to scream Jesus!!! I looked again as this rogue aircraft merged with ours at touchdown. Oops! It was our shadow, a reflecting of our aircraft, all along. Phew!!! I sunk into my chair in relief.

There are so many people who are afraid of their shadows. They always feel someone is coming for them, not realising it was their shadow. While for some, the unseen shadow truly portends demonic oppression, for others, that ominous shadow is their ignorance. Light is the solution to shadows. Position yourself rightly before the Son and all shadows shall disappear (John 8:12).

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy New Month!

......Just the thoughts of a certain Wey Mey

I SHALL NOT DIE

 

I was thinking this morning..... The past few days have made me sober, triggering deep introspection about life and death. I was on a flight with a colleague who had received the shocking news of the passing of her brother-in-law a few hours earlier. This man's job had been so demanding and stressful in recent years that he had agreed with the wife that he was going to resign for the sake of his health. However, he kept going and going until last week when he could take it no more and threw in the towel. He had resigned in the morning, and by midnight, he suffered a heart attack and died a couple of hours later.

Wow! How do you explain that? Did he resign too late? If he hadn't resigned, could he have died in active service? I imagined how so many people are experiencing similar extreme work pressure but somehow can't break away. As I considered why, I can only recall the Warri proverb that says, 'E go beta, e go beta, na e make camel still dey carry load.'

I remember a colleague years ago who was a workaholic. He worked so hard and hardly created time for vacation or recreation. He was saving up seriously for his retirement when he would finally relax and enjoy the fruits of a labour. Unfortunately, the stress took a toll on him, and he collapsed and died. The retirement he worked day and night for was never to be. As colleagues gathered for his burial, one lesson was clear to all, 'Who naked no dey chuke hand for pocket!'

I was still pondering on the fate of those they left behind when I saw a writeup on the burial of President Muhammadu Buhari. The author had clearly pointed out that despite the status of PMB, his burial was simple, with no night of tributes, no wake keep, no in-laws visit, no expensive coffin, no 5 musicians playing concurrently, no hired pall bearers nor spraying of naira or dollars. Everything that makes people say 'the burial carry weight' was absent. How did we come to this point of stressing ourselves to death and still stress the living because of what people would say? I concluded with the saying, 'This burial rich, this burial rich, no make to die hungry elders.'

Don't live or pattern your life to impress anyone or conform with unhealthy tradition. Think deeply about what is driving your actions. Otherwise, like they say, 'head wey no wan think, go carry load.' Psalms 118:17 says 'I shall not die, but live.'

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

......Just the thoughts of a certain Wey Mey

Hello! Can You Hear Me?

 

I was thinking this morning.... The wedding of the daughter of our Hussey College classmate in Toronto happened at a time when the trade war between the USA and Canada was raging. This triggered a soft war between our classmates from the USA and Canada, with the Canadians jokingly threatening to slam additional tariffs on the USA group on arrival. The USA group threatened that their visit to Toronto was to finalise the annexation of Canada as the 51st State of the USA.

Unfortunately, the day of arrival of the USA team in Canada was when the hotel everyone was lodged, decided to carry out maintenance. Power was shut off, and water ran out. The USA folks went into overdrive, telling everyone exactly how Canada is like a county and needed to be annexed by the USA.

We were yet to hear the last of their complaints on our way to Niagara Falls when we saw this phone booth standing by the side of the gas station we stopped to top our tanks. That again triggered another round of gbas-gbos between the USA and the Canadian teams, with the USA team insisting that Canada is old-school for having phone booths in the era of advanced mobile phones. As they banter, I walked over to the booth, just to confirm if it was functional. As I picked up the handset to my ear and heard the ring tone, like in the movie, Matrix, I was teleported to a realm of musing.

How ironic that we came from an era with little or no mobile phones, but yet communication was great, to today with mobile phones everywhere and we are not communicating. In 1980, there were approximately 400 million telephone lines compared to today, with over 7.4 billion smartphones globally. Today, talk is cheap, but communication is poor. Everyone has a phone, but only a few are communicating. Parents and children are all sitting in the living room, each holding a mobile phone, not for communication, but lost in their respective virtual world.

Mobile phones were meant to improve communication, but it has made it worse. Talking does not mean communication because we can communicate in silence. Beyond communicating, we must seek to understand one another to make the world a better place. No wonder Colossians 4:6 says, "Let your speech always be with grace, seasoned with salt, that you may know how you ought to answer each one." 

Hello! Can you hear me?

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

......Just the thoughts of a certain Wey Mey

THE BOY WITH OVERSIZED SHORT

 

I was thinking this morning..... Still on the wedding of the daughter of my Hussey College classmate in Ontario, Canada, 39 years after we left school. My young wife and I got to the venue of the trad early, just to ensure we were part of all the action. One by one, guests walked into the living room, colourfully dressed in traditional Niger Delta outfit. While I recognised just a few of my classmates, almost every one of them recognised me. I'm not sure why, though.

While musing, Usifo walked over to where I was with another of our classmates. I didn't at all pick his face from the past, even though the name rang a bell. I was still digging into the deep recesses of my memory when Usifo said, "Weyimi, I remember you quite well. You were very small while we were in school and always wore oversized shorts." He concluded by gesturing to the shorts being below my knees.

After laughing off the joke, his words played back in my head. Not the fact that I was smallish but the memory that I wore oversized shorts. I recalled that the oversized short was not a fashion statement but rather an economic strategy by my parents. My short was oversized either because I was to wear it for several years or because it was passed down from my elder brother.

As I thought about Usifo's remarks, I was initially disappointed in myself. Usifo did not remember me for something positively grand, like being the best student in class or an outstanding prefect. He remembered me for my oversized shorts. Chai! He didn't even remember me for being a fine boy or well-behaved student, but of everything about a student, he remembered my oversized shorts. Usifo, why? Lol.

But then, I thought again. While in Hussey College, there were many students that Principal Ojo gave his signature slap for truancy. I am thankful that Usifo did not remember me as one of the receivers. He also didn't remember me as the boy that stole or for any other vice. He remembered me for my oversized shorts.

Thanks to Usifo, I got a renewed sense that it is better to be remembered for a bad outfit than for a bad character. What you wear is external and will not define your personality, but what you do to others will define who you are, and that's what you will be remembered for. Be intentional about having a good name rather than a great fashion sense or riches (Proverbs 22:1).

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

......Just the thoughts of a certain Wey Mey

TABLE 19

 

I was thinking this morning...... Two days after the traditional wedding of the daughter of our Hussey College classmate was the white wedding, and every one of us had dressed up in our aso-ebi. Again, a Niger Delta attire. As we arrived at the venue, I had planned to go sit with my close friends in the Hussey College Class of 86, but the organisers had a different plan. We were directed to go check our table on the display board at the entrance. My young wife and I had been assigned to Table 19.

I wasn't sure who was assigned to my table and was bracing up for a boring four hours. On getting to Table 19, double chief Lucky Memene, his wife and daughter, the lovely Clara Uyi Reinicke, the irrepressible Maureen Iyere, the amiable Favour Orere and Tony Dale were already seated. These were familiar faces but not my regular pals while we were in school. With a chair short, Tony Dale happily volunteered to give up his seat so my young wife and I could have a seat at Table 19. He left for another table. Lucky Braimoh, who was originally assigned to Table 19, came in later on but joined another table because there was no more seat at Table 19.

As we drove back home after the event, I imagined how the journey of life can be akin to Table 19. Just like I came to the event not choosing where and who to sit with, no one selected their parents when they were born and, to a large extent, not even their friends. Life brought us all together at Table 19.

Like Tony and Lucky, who eventually left Table 19 to another table, we sometimes separate from those we started life with and sojourn with new friends. We must, however, maintain a good relationship with them. Interactions on Table 19 started slowly but picked up tempo when we embraced our individuality and enjoyed the company of each other. Our conversations connected, and we left as closer friends on Table 19.

Life has placed every one of us at our respective Table 19, seating you with family, classmates, colleagues, and others. What you make out of Table 19 depends on you. Embrace those life has paired you with and be kind to them. If you must leave to join another group like Tony, do so happily and without acrimony. Like the Rotarians would say, "Make new friends but keep the old. One is silver, and the other is gold." Romans 12:18 is also instructive.

Stay hopeful. God's got our back.

Happy Sunday!

......Just the thoughts of a certain Wey Mey